


You Call it Madness...

by SmoakingGreenArrow



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Olicity Fanfiction, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-12 11:48:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11161239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoakingGreenArrow/pseuds/SmoakingGreenArrow
Summary: Cupid returns to Star City with a gift for Oliver, something she calls Heartsease. But things don’t go quite according to plan.





	1. Chapter 1

This was not how he imagined his night going. He had a date; a date that he bailed on at the last second for a green hood and a rooftop chase. He’d be lying if he said that he was disappointed though. He had very little interest in any woman who was not a babbling blonde that distracted him through his earpiece on most nights.

But that blonde wasn’t his.

So he’d made a date with her complete opposite in the hopes of getting her off of his mind; a tall brunette who had bored him through countless fundraisers.

Felicity was sick tonight, making him feel even guiltier about the stupid date when she’d said she couldn’t come in, her voice hoarse and the sounds of the television on in the background. He imagined her on their bed in the loft, a cup of tea warming her hands while she watched old black and white movies and mumbled every line. 

He would do anything to be curled up next to her, around her, remembering how cuddly she was when she didn’t feel well.

Oliver sighed, “I don’t see her.” He said, pushing the button on his chest to talk to John, “I lost her about a block from Fifth Ave. He peered through the neighborhood, no sight of their target for the night.

Diggle nodded, “Copy that. I’m sure she’ll be back, she always seems to come back. Let’s just be happy that it was only a sighting tonight and not a murder.” Oliver sighed again, staring down at the street, willing his eyes to find her before she found him, again. He knew it would only be a matter of time before a body showed up if she was back in town. “I’ll check in on Felicity and see you around two tomorrow. There’s not much else we can do without any leads to go off.” John said.

“No,” Oliver snapped. He took a deep breath, “I’m only a couple of blocks from the loft, I’ll check on her.” In the silence on the other end, Oliver could literally see Diggle smirking and rolling his eyes. He silently rolled his back.

Oliver made his way from rooftop to rooftop until he reached the building that their apartment was in. He glanced at the windows quickly, seeing if she was even awake before he went pounding on the door. 

He could see Felicity’s small figure in bed, their bed, illuminated where she slept by the television light. His breath caught when he noticed that she was wearing his flannel. The blue one, her favorite. The one that he’d been wearing the first time he asked her out. The one that she’d never given back to him when they broke up.

And he’d never asked for it…probably because part of him liked to imagine her like this; bare legs covered only by the soft blue material, sprawled out across the bed. He nodded to himself once, sure that she was all right. He turned to head back to the bunker, not wanting to watch her any more than necessary.

A sharp, familiar pinch had him instinctively grabbing his neck.

He looked down at the blood spilling through his fingers. His first thought was that he should have heard that arrow whizzing by his ear  _before_ it clipped his neck…but he was too distracted to even notice that she’d joined him on the roof, only a couple of yards away. “Hello, Lover.”

He heard her, but her voice sounded so far away, and when he looked at her, she was blurry. And coming towards him.

“What did you do?” He asked, knowing that the scratch that arrow caused should not be making him see stars.

Carrie Cutter stalked towards him, and Oliver took a moment to touch his communication device. “Diggle. Roof,” he mumbled before blocking Cutter’s attack and twisting her arm.

He would have been more willing to put up a fight, to go easier on her, if his head didn’t feel like it was no longer attached to his body.

With his grip on her arm, he twisted, and listened to her scream as he broke her arm. He brought back an elbow to her face in one more blow before the dark spots swirling around his eyes engulfed his vision completely.

* * *

“He’s been unconscious for a  _week_ , John.” Felicity argued, staring down at the shirtless Oliver she’d been losing her mind over for that past week. He looked peaceful, asleep, as he laid on the bed she’d bought for him, in one of the back rooms of the bunker. They’d had him on the table for nearly six hours before they decided to move him to a more comfortable spot.

“What do you want me to do, Felicity? He’s alive. He’s breathing. I don’t have any more of an idea as to why he’s not waking up than you do.”

Felicity sighed, “You can’t get anything out of Cutter?”

“No,” John shook his head, bringing his hands to his face, “She’s stone cold.”

“The residue we pulled from Oliver’s neck and her arrows are a match. And a lot of the markers overlap with strands of Vertigo…but it’s different, John.” Felicity crossed her arms as a chill came over her skin, “Who knows what kind of hell Cupid subjected him to.”

Diggle nodded, “Vertigo is always changing. Cutter must have gotten her hands on a powerful player in that game and manipulated him to customize it.”

Felicity glared at the door that she knew Cupid was just beyond. “Why are we guessing?” She asked, finally breaking after a week of watching Oliver lay there like Sleeping Beauty, a week of constantly worrying that he’d never wake up. Felicity marched her way for the door, John hot on her heels.

“Where are you going, Felicity?”

“To get some answers.” She snapped.

Carrie smiled like the devil when she saw Felicity. “How’s the little not-so-bride-to-be?” She sneered, wrapping the fingers of her one good hand around the bars of her imprisonment and leaning towards Felicity. Her broken arm was secured tightly to her chest in a sling that Felicity had argued she didn’t deserve.

She didn’t stop until her face was only inches from Cutter’s. “What did you do to him?” Felicity demanded, her eyes piercing into Carrie’s.

Cutter made a  _tsk-tsk_  sound and smiled even wider, “Where’s the fun in that game?” She taunted.

Felicity had had enough. Before Cutter had time to react, Felicity grabbed two of her fingers through the bars and snapped them hard, hearing a sharp scream from Cupid and a surprised “Felicity!” from Dig. John came up behind her and pulled her away from Cupid’s confine.

“What. Did. You. Do?” She demanded, her eyes darker now.

Cutter chuckled, squeezing her broken fingers. “Oh girly, why do you think I let you put me in this cage? I want to be here to find out.” She winked.

“What did you lace the arrows with?” Felicity demanded, shoving Dig’s hands away.

“Ever had a Vertigo trip?” Carrie questioned in return.

“No. I know what it is. What’s different about the strand that was on your arrows?” She asked, stepping forward, nudging out of Dig’s grip on her shoulders. He let her go.

“Well, let’s just say Oliver won’t quite be Oliver when he wakes up.”

Felicity clenched her jaw. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“My Vertigo, I’m thinking of calling it Heartsease…it rewires your brain. Oliver won’t wake up until his mind has scrambled itself enough to believe  _my_ reality. The only way I knew how to make him see what I see.”

“And what is that?” Diggle asked.

“It’s a love potion. You turned Vertigo into a love potion.” Felicity mumbled.

“Ding, ding, ding!” Cupid sang. “Imagine how I felt when I learned Oliver’s little secret; when I stole Argus’ file on him and discovered that my love wasn’t dead…that  _Oliver_ is the Arrow. My first idea was to kill _you_ ,” she shrugged, “but then I tried to be more creative. When Oliver wakes up, all of his memories will have me in them. He’ll be in love with  _me_.”

“How…?” Felicity trailed off.

“All I had to do was hit him with the Heartsease, and make sure that I was the last person he saw before he took his little nap.”

Felicity shook her head, trying to clear it. There was no way Oliver would wake up thinking that Carrie Cutter was the love of his life. But…what else was his brain doing for the last week?

She’d heard enough, making her way back to Oliver and leaving Cutter without a second glance. Diggle followed. “You’re not going to fix these fingers?” Cupid asked without a response.

Felicity sat down on the bed beside Oliver, taking his hand in hers and instantly feeling how warm he was. “He’s burning up,” she mumbled, running her fingers over his forehead and the sheen of sweat on his temple. She stepped back to the sink, wetting a wash cloth and getting Tylenol from the drawer. 

Oliver shot up in the bed and his hand immediately wrapped around John’s neck, who had taken her place at Oliver’s side.

Felicity dropped the towel and Tylenol, watching as John patted Oliver’s hand, their eyes meeting, and Oliver instantly relaxed. Dig rubbed his throat as Oliver laid back. “Good. So you still recognize me then.”

“Of course I recognize you, John. You’re my brother.” Oliver closed his eyes, take a deep breath to calm down. Felicity stepped forward, her movement noticed by him even with his eyes closed.

He opened them slowly, meeting her gaze. And she watched carefully as that special smile spread across his face, the one he had reserved for her, his eyes softening as he stared at her. “Hi,” he whispered.

Her self control had vanished when she broke Cupid’s fingers, so there was nothing stopping her from nudging passed John and lying down on the bed beside Oliver. He sighed a small laugh, his arms wrapping around her. 

She pressed her face to his chest, feeling the heat of his fever on his skin, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Just a week ago, when she’d done this same thing, his skin had been cold and she could barely hear his heart beating.

And the strong arms that wound around her now had been limp at his sides. She inhaled, breathing him in, and felt his lips graze her hair, “I’m okay, Felicity.”

“I’ll give you two a minute.” John said. 

She kept her face hidden in Oliver’s neck, but felt him nod to their friend. 

Oliver laid there with her for a while in silence, and with each passing moment she had more and more questions. Was he really fine? Why was he just letting her lay with him? Would he instantly fall for Carrie the moment he saw her in that cage?

He _seemed_ like the same man. Nothing seemed different... But she still felt panic rising in her throat as he rubbed small, soothing circles on her back. She did the same to him, tracing the tattoo on his chest with her finger, not wanting to get up and test the whole 'love potion' debacle.

“Hey,” Oliver murmured, “Where’s your ring?” He caught her hand where it skimmed over his chest and brought it up to his face. He kissed her bare finger lovingly, but his eyebrow furrowed in that ‘I’m upset and I’m trying not to jump to conclusions’ way. 

She froze. “What?”

“Your wedding ring? Why aren’t you wearing it?”

“Oliver…I-”

“Did you lose it again? I told you that you should probably take it off when you code. You know, just put it in a safe place before you let the computers take control of your brain. You never seem to remember what happens to it.” He smiled down at her sweetly, and her mouth dropped a little as she stared at him, her mind blank. “Honey,” he said, running a hand along her arm, “It’s okay, we’ll find it when we get home.”

“Oliver…I need to go talk to Dig.” She shot up, speed walking towards the door. He sat up too and she spun around, pointing a finger at him. “Stay!” She yelped before hurrying through the door and slamming it behind her. She glared at Cutter as she passed, and grabbed Diggle’s arm, pulling him a little farther away from the eavesdropping prisoner. “Cupid’s love potion didn’t work as planned.”

John nodded, “Okay, that’s great news. Oliver  _not_ being crazily in love with a psychotic killer is probably for the best. Who knows what those two would have been capable of together.” Diggle shuddered. 

“Yeah, yeah, better than Oliver thinking he’s in love with a serial killing nut job…but we have a  _different_ problem.”

“What is it?” John asked, crossing his arms and leaning towards her.

“Now he thinks he’s in love with  _me_!”

Dig just stared at her for a long moment and Felicity raised her eyebrows. “That’s not really news, Felicity. That man has always been in love with you.”

“Okay, no.” She slapped his arm, “He thinks we’re  _married_ , John! He thinks I lost my wedding ring while I was coding, which apparently I’ve done before, according to crazy love potion brain,” She waved her hand in front of him, “And he says _we’ll_ look for it when  _we_  get home!”

Felicity stepped from foot to foot anxiously while John digested, and hopefully was thinking of a plan. Because she definitely did  _not_ have one. The last thing she wanted to do was break Oliver’s heart all over again by telling him that they were not married, especially because she had no idea what was going on in his head, what Cupid’s Heartsease did to his memories.

The night she told him to let her go was ingrained in hers as one of the most painful memories she had, she didn’t want to make him go through it again. Especially if their whole excruciating breakup had somehow been wiped from his memory.

Oliver swung open the door and stepped into the main room, “Felicity,” he said, pulling a shirt over his head. He glanced from Cutter to John and Felicity and back again. His eyes finally landing on Felicity. “What’s going on?” He asked.

Felicity felt a moment of panic. She didn’t know very much about love potions, but if Oliver was about to go kiss Carrie or something because some creepy 'love at first sight' kicked in, she’d have to wash her eyes out. 

“Hello, Lover.” Cutter whispered, her voice as low and seductive as her eyes on Oliver. 

Oliver gave her another look, visibly uncomfortable, but Felicity still felt the fire of jealously rising. “I’m not your lover,” he shot back, making his way to Felicity’s side.

Carrie did all of this just to make Oliver want her. Felicity was a girl’s girl and all, but this was over the line of desperate. 

Yet, something in Felicity was jealous because Cutter fought so hard for Oliver’s attention. She created her own love potion just to make him care for her like she cared for him. As screwed up as the plan was, Felicity realized that she didn’t really fight for Oliver like that. She gave up.

She was scared, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew that Oliver Queen wasn’t the kind of man you give up on. And apparently Carrie Cutter knew that too.

She really needed to stop relating to that unstable, terrifying woman.

Oliver laced his fingers through hers, and Felicity smiled slightly. She loved holding his hand any day, but she knew he was doing it just to say to Cutter, ‘ _I’m hers_ ’. Felicity shook her head, trying to ground herself back in reality. He wasn’t hers.

He sure as hell wasn’t Cupid’s… but he wasn’t hers.

Felicity squeezed his hand quickly before dropping it and crossing her arms. She cleared her throat, “John?”

Diggle looked at a loss, apparently torn between the same emotion she was feeling. He didn’t want to break it to Oliver any more than she did.

“What the hell?” Cutter complained from her cage. “You’re supposed to love  _me_. Are you playing games with me, lover?”

Oliver turned slowly to look at her and then back to his friends. “What is she talking about?” His question was answered with glances between John and Felicity, but neither of them looked at him, so he turned to Cutter. “What the hell does that mean?” He asked her.

She groaned, “I hit you with an arrow laced in Heartsease?”

Oliver rubbed his neck where her arrow had cut him. “Heartsease?”

“It’s a love potion,” she winked at Felicity.

Oliver looked at Felicity. “ _What_ is going on?” He stared at her, more confused than she’d ever seen him.

Felicity saw the opportunity to just explain it all, but for some reason telling him in front of John and Carrie seemed cruel, and her reaction was to just…not. “I’ll tell you when we get home.” She blurted out instead.

John’s eyes widened, “Felicity, are you sure?”

Now Oliver’s eyes narrowed, “Why wouldn’t my wife tell me what’s happening, John?”

Felicity pursed her lips, John stared, and Cutter groaned. “ _Wife_!?” She whined. “What did I do wrong?” She was stomping her feet and grabbing at her hair. Pacing her cage, Cutter began talking to herself.

Felicity took Oliver’s hand and pulled him towards the elevator, swiping her purse and coat from the table on her way out.

“Bye!” She yelled, yanking Oliver along before Cutter could say anything else. Once they reached the parking lot, she exhaled. Now she could figure out a way to reach Oliver’s real memories, or at least explain everything, without an audience and a crazy girl in a cage to witness the whole conversation. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Oliver shook his head, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He lifted her hand, pressing his lips to the back of it as she watched and he glanced around the parking lot. “I don’t see your car.” He said into her skin, giving her hand one more kiss.

“Hm?” she asked, distracted by how soft his lips were. How had she forgotten how soft his lips were? 

“Oh, um, Diggle brought me over. We’ll have to take your bike back to the loft.” Might as well do this in a familiar, comfortable place. She wondered if telling him would make the pieces come back together…or if he’d be crushed that the woman he believed was his wife had never actually married him, and everything he knew was a lie. How thorough was the drug? How rigorously did it twist his memories?

Her gut told her it would bad, which was why she was glad to get him out of the bunker. It was also why she had a giant lump in her throat. Oliver didn’t deserve any more pain.

“My keys in your purse?” He asked, walking right to where he’d parked it. 

Felicity hesitated, pulling them out slowly, “Yeah,” she said, smiling to herself.

He always put his keys in her purse so he wouldn't lose them when they were in the bunker. And in case they needed a quick getaway. Maybe more of his life was real than she thought, and it was just the whole marriage thing that had been tampered with.

Felicity handed him the keys and waited while he got on and started the bike. He handed her the helmet and she climbed on behind him, instinctively squeezing her thighs around him. She realized that she hadn’t actually been on his bike with him since before their break up.

Wrapping her arms around him, she wiggled into a comfortable position. She was settled, but he didn’t move. She remained still, with her hands sprawled out over his stomach, his muscles easily felt through the thin material of his t-shirt. “You okay?” She asked.

“Waiting,” he answered, throwing her a cocky grin over his shoulder.

“Waiting for what?” She asked, a smile creeping across her lips at the look on his face. He was happier than she’d seen him in so long, but she knew that she was about to ruin that for him. As if his happy moments hadn’t been taken from him enough in his life. But still, she couldn’t ignore that it felt amazing to see him smile at her like that again.

“My kiss.” He responded, letting one of his hands fall from the handlebar to touch her knee, to run his thumb over her exposed skin. She shuddered.

“What? I’m sorry…”

Oliver rolled his eyes, “Felicity Smoak, when was the last time you got on the back of my bike without kissing my neck? Because I'd say never.”

Felicity bit her lip. She could remember countless bike rides, but not _once_ had she ever done that. She leaned forward and pressed a quick peck just under his ear. Oliver chuckled, “I’ll take it.”

She spent the ride to the loft wondering what the hell that was all about. He had complete memories,  _things_ that never happened? The change didn’t begin with their breakup, it didn’t erase that memory and replace it with one where she forgave him. It wasn't simply that his brain forged a new path, corrected their mistakes and dreamed up a world where they were married. Was their whole history changed in his mind? This ritual of her kissing his neck when she got on his bike was completely foreign to her. Something totally created from the drug that stemmed back to every bike ride they'd ever taken, apparently.

The whole thing was much more complex than she'd been hoping.

Felicity stayed quiet while he lead her into the loft. He smiled as soon as he walked in. “I see you’ve done some redecorating.” She just shook her head. The loft looking different than it did when he lived there was the last concern she had with all of this.

“Oliver, we need to talk.”

“Okay, babe.” He said, kissing her cheek, “Let me grab a shower first. Then you can tell me why the hell Carrie Cutter is locked in the bunker.” He was already jogging up the stairs, but he stopped halfway up, throwing her that same devilish grin. “Do you want to join me?”

Her eyes widened, darting to his, “What?” 

He raised an eyebrow, licking his lips and smiling at her like he loved how flustered she was because of his unexpected question. “No,” she answered, trying to relax. “No, I’m just going to have some tea and shower in the morning. I’ll be down here when you’re done.”

She chugged a glass of wine while he showered, because she needed it.

And then she changed into pajama pants and a tank top.

Felicity strategically laid out the one shirt and pair of sweatpants she still had of his, for him to see when he came out. It was a blue flannel of his, her favorite, that she’d never given back and he’d never asked for; and a pair of gray sweatpants. They were both articles of clothing that she slept in more often than she’d ever admit to anyone. The sweats were only for cold nights, because the flannel was like a dress on her and she loved sleeping only in his shirt.

He jogged down the stairs wearing the sweatpants but lacking the shirt. “Felicity, when do I ever sleep with a shirt on? You goofball.” he teased. Felicity shrugged, at least that hadn’t changed. The world would be a sad place if Oliver Queen slept with a shirt on; in any reality.

He sank down on the couch next to her, immediately reaching for her and pulling her towards him. “We need to talk.” she said.

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss her, “mmhm." She quickly dipped her head, and his lips landed on her neck. He didn’t complain, running his lips and nose along her skin and sending shivers down her spine. Her hands fell to his broad shoulders, and her eyes closed.

“Oliver, we need to talk.” She mumbled, arching her neck on instinct and giving him better access.

“Talk later.  _You_ now.” His voice was gruff and hoarse and  _sexy_. Felicity’s mouth dropped open as his teeth sank into her earlobe...and she was having a hard time finding words. Responsible thoughts were slowly running out the door the more he kissed, sucked, and teased.

But in the back of her mind, she knew she had to slam on the brakes.

He thought they were happily married, and while every part of her body was telling her to let him continue, her head and heart screamed at her to stop him. It wouldn’t be _fair_.

“Oliver,  _no_.” Her words came out harsher than she’d intended, and her hands shoved his chest harder than she meant to, pushing him off. His whole body froze. She waited, but it took him a moment to move again, every muscle in his body was tense.

And then he leaned back quickly, glancing away from her. “I’m sorry.” he said, taking his hands and warm body away from her, too.

“No,” she said, instinctively reaching for him again, realizing what he thought; that he’d pushed too far, that he’d done something she didn’t like. But  _damn_  was she liking it. “Oliver, I just need to tell you something…and it’s important. You didn’t do anything that…I wasn’t…enjoying. I just can’t let that happen until you know everything.” She rested her hands in his, adjusting her legs; tucking them under her and resting them on his thigh. “Cutter’s arrow was laced with something. She hit you with it a week ago.”

Oliver rubbed the scar on his neck like he had when Cutter mentioned her arrow. “I remember, sort of. We were on the roof across the street…I was checking on you…you were sick or something.” His eyebrows furrowed, like the memory didn’t make sense.

“Good, Oliver. Yeah.” She smiled at him encouragingly. “What else do you remember?”

“I broke her arm and knocked her out after I told John…I knew that I was about to pass out from whatever she hit me with. Heartsease?”

“It’s a version of Vertigo that Cutter came up with. It was supposed to make you fall in love with her.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, “A love potion, literally. Wow.” He chuckled, “Good thing  _that_ didn’t work.” He shuddered at the thought.

“Well, it did…in a way.” Felicity took a deep breath, her whole body shaking as she felt her own heart starting to break all over again. Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed, and he pulled the blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around her, letting one hand rest on her knee, rubbing slow circles. “We’re not married, Oliver.” She said quietly, her voice sad.

Oliver’s eyes lifted slowly to meet hers, and then fell to her naked ring finger. He shook his head. “Of course we are.”

“No,” she bit her lip. “We broke up months ago. We never got married.”

Oliver’s head fell, his eyes shifting from confusion, to hurt, to anger, to sadness. She watched it all play out on his face while he stared down at their hands. “What’s happening?” He asked, his voice so low she barely heard him.

“Whatever Cupid laced her arrows with…it created some sort of reality in your head, in your memories, that just aren’t true. I’m sorry, Oliver. It broke both of our hearts when we broke up. I didn’t think I could survive it a second time. This isn’t fun for me, either.”

She could tell that half of him didn’t believe her, but the other half was trying. Whatever Heartsease created in his mind must have been some pretty powerful lies. “Why did we break up?” He asked, his hand slipping from her knee so that he could wring his hands together.

“William…you lied to me about having a son, and I knew that you didn’t trust me.”

Oliver’s eyes met hers, a flash of hopefulness in them. “No. That can’t be true. I don’t even have a son, Felicity.”

Felicity watched him for a moment, his eyes squeezing shut while he combed his memory. “You do, Oliver. William.”

“No!” He shouted, his voice making her jump. Oliver ran his fingers through his hair. “How could I have a son that I don’t remember? Why would I remember our wedding day, our vows, if none of that was real? It was, Felicity.  _It was real_. It was as real as this,” he said, his voice frantic. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest.

Felicity slowly rubbed soothing circles on his chest, “I loved you, Oliver. But we can’t change the past. I can’t imagine what this feels like for you, but I can’t pretend that what you think…is true. It’s not.”

She saw his eyes gloss over, and she kicked herself for being too harsh. “Loved?” He asked. “You  _loved_ me?”

Felicity let out a rush of air, “You know, I think you’ve been too afraid to ask that question for a long time now…but I’ll gladly tell you. I  _love_ you.” His eyes seemed a little relieved, and she realized that part of his stress was that she had been talking as if they weren’t anything anymore, when there was no way they could ever not be... _something_.

So she said it again.

“I still love you. I do. But I couldn’t be with you before, and I can’t now…not when so much of this is uncharted waters here. We have no idea how long this will last, how much of what you know is real and how much of it is the drug.”

She didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself, but this version of Oliver; this content, married version of him…it gave her hope.

It made her feel like it was possible. Someday.

She watched the hurt expression on his face, “We just need to figure this out, okay? We need to know more about what’s going on.” She said, running her fingers over his arm, thinking that Oliver showing his affection for her again was making her react in the same way. She’d barely touched him in months, but now she felt it on instinct to touch him whenever she wanted to, like no time had passed at all.

Oliver nodded, his features smoothing. “We know each other, Felicity, no matter what. In our bones. We know each other.”


	2. I Call it Love

She was a cliche. She knew it and she did not care, especially with four margaritas buzzing through her bloodstream. She’d purposely chosen a night that she knew Thea wouldn’t stop by Verdant to check on business. But she’d been wrong, and Thea had taken a seat at the bar next to her, only having one drink in the time it took Felicity to down four, refusing to leave her alone.

She kept her lips shut tight when Thea told her she was calling Oliver. It wasn’t just because Thea had a glare in her eyes that dared Felicity to question her authority, but also because she felt some butterflies stirring in her stomach at the thought of him coming over.

Thea dialed and waited, clicking her nails against the bar. “Hi, Ollie. Can you swing by the club? Felicity’s here. I need you to pick her up.” Felicity was staring at Thea as soon as she touched the phone, and Thea glanced back, “Yeah, she’s drunk.” Felicity groaned, letting her head fall to her arms with a thud. She kept her head down on the bar while Thea finished her conversation and hung up.

She’d seen stone-cold Oliver plenty of times in the past week to know that he was purposely shutting her out, putting a guard up to protect both of them from more mistakes and regrets. 

He went from thinking they were happily married to only speaking to her when necessary, but he couldn’t hide the look in his eyes whenever he looked at her; no more than she could. 

She wasn’t sure if there would ever be a day when Oliver Queen stopped looking at her like that, but the thought of it almost made her want to puke. She may have ended things, but she never wanted him to stop loving her because she knew she would never not be in love with him. She’d fought it as much as she could. It terrified her to love someone that much, but if distance and time had taught her anything, it was that distance and time did not make feelings like those ones go away. She felt as strongly for him now as she did the day he asked her to marry him, and her body reacted to his the same way it always did. 

He hadn’t grown out of his habit for the salmon ladder, to her frustration. 

It was like they were back at square one; her sitting at her computer every night for the past week trying to focus while he went up and down that thing, his skin sweaty and his muscles tightening with every move. 

Thea whistled, and Felicity looked up at her from where she’d been slouching in her chair, picking her head up and sighing, tracing her finger over the salt of her last margarita. “What are you thinking about?” Thea asked.

Felicity sighed. “Your brother.”

Thea chuckled softly, reminding her of Oliver’s laugh. “You’re an idiot, have I told you that yet?”

Felicity narrowed her eyes, “I’m actually quite intelligent, if I do say so myself.”

Thea leaned over the bar, her eyes trained on Felicity’s, “Then why aren’t you with my brother?”

Felicity sighed, “I can’t, Thea. That drug is making him forget he even has a son. He can’t trust his feelings for me when so much if it is based on lies. We barely know anything about this stupid Heartsease Vertigo.”

Thea shook her head. “Idiot.”

Felicity threw her hands up, “How does any of that make me an idiot!?” She cried, “Oliver thinks we’re married.”

“Yeah.” Thea raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because Crazy shot him with a love potion arrow.”

“No…idiot.” Felicity frowned, really wishing she’d stop calling her that. “Why is it, do you think, that Cupid’s love potion didn’t work the way she wanted it to? Why did Oliver only wake up more in love with you than he was before? Instead of loving her?”

“I don’t know.” Felicity frowned, she’d wondered too, but she relied on science for that answer. Something in Cupid’s calculations of the potion were off, or Oliver didn’t react to it the way she expected him to, and it changed the balances to create a different effect than she had intended.

“Heartsease, or love potion, whatever it is…it stems from Vertigo. Vertigo is unpredictable and it messes with your head. Cutter intensified it, obviously made the hallucinations more vivid and extreme…but all it did was show Oliver what he’s really wanted since the day he met you. It gave him the life with you that he felt like he missed out on. Maybe that’s why it’s still affecting him, even a week later…because he doesn’t want to let go of the life that he wishes he had.”

Felicity hesitated, digesting her words. “Oliver said something the night I told him…” she mumbled, “he told me that we knew each other in our bones.”

“And Oliver wanted to marry you, whichever reality his head is tricking him to believe. Either way, he wants you, Felicity.”

Felicity lifted herself, her feet on the bars of her stool as she reached over the bar and took the bottle of tequila from behind the counter. Thea threw her a dirty look, but didn’t stop her. Felicity raised an eyebrow at Thea, and she sighed, pulling out two shot glasses, the salt, and limes.

Felicity smiled, wiggling in her seat while Thea poured. “One.” Thea warned, not messing around. “And only because I know Oliver is on his way to take your drunk ass home.” The reminder made Felicity’s stomach do another flip. She clinked her glass to Thea’s. Felicity licked the salt off of her hand, and threw the shot down her throat, quickly sucking the lime to help put out the fire in her mouth that the alcohol burned. 

“Thea,” Felicity sighed, slamming her glass down. “You and I both know that it would be shady as all hell to go after him when his memories of us aren’t even true.”

“Felicity,” Thea mimicked her tone, “You and I both know that whether you kiss his neck when you’re on his motorcycle or not…it doesn’t really change the way you feel about each other. The memories may be different, life changing, even…but the love is the same.”

Felicity stared at her for a long moment, trying to find clarity in all of this mess, before she realized that maybe it was something to figure out when she was sober. She scrunched her nose, feeling the extra tequila shot that she definitely didn’t need. “He told you about the motorcycle thing, huh?”

“Yes,” Thea looked at her as if everything she was saying was so obvious…and she was an idiot. “Because he’s still Ollie. He’s the same person, Felicity. You know, he was telling me the other day that he still remembers loving Laurel…loving Sara. But it just didn’t feel the same as how he felt about you. He said that with you…it was so much deeper and real. Does that sound like a man under some kind of spell?” Thea leveled her with a look, “Don’t you think he felt that way about you before? Because I do. I don’t think he’s ever loved anyone like he loves you.”

Oliver cleared his throat from behind them, and they both jumped. Felicity had been rolling her shot glass across her bottom lip and it slipped from her fingers as she whirled around to look at him. Oliver stepped forward and caught it before it crashed at her feet. He hovered over her, staring down at her in a way that made her heart stop.

“If you’re done pouring tequila down my- Felicity’s throat…” he said lowly, throwing a look at his sister. “Can I take you home?” he asked her gently.

She was nodding embarrassingly fast, “With you? I mean-you. Bringing me home. To my home. And then you going to yours.”

Oliver shook his head slightly, his eyebrows pushing together. “Only if that’s what you want.” He mumbled. “Goodnight, Thea.” She could tell by his tone that he was upset with Thea for however much of that conversation he’d heard; and it made her heart tighten to think that maybe he was angry because what Thea had told her was true. Thea just rolled her eyes at him.

He tugged on Felicity’s hand, helping her from the stool and out of the club. Felicity waved to Thea and offered her a small, appreciative smile. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Thea’s theory, but it was comforting to hear it. And she was right about one thing-he was still Oliver. She knew him like the back of her hand, and over the past week since he’d woken up, he reacted pretty much how she would have expected him to; closing himself off from her, brooding at times, but always giving her the feeling that he was there for her no matter what.

“How much of that did you hear?” Felicity asked, not making eye contact.

“Just my little sister telling you how in love with you I am. Not embarrassing at all.”

“Oliver…”

He shook his head, climbing onto his bike and waiting. He held out his hand and Felicity steadied herself before slowly climbing on the back, using his shoulders for balance. She felt the urge to kiss him, remembering that beautiful, happy look on his face the last time she was on the back of his bike, before she’d broken the news that his memories were a lie.

“You okay?”

“Waiting,”

“Waiting for what?”

“My kiss.”

Drunk Felicity didn’t care if it was real or not. She wanted to kiss him, so she did. Kissing him every time she was on his bike wasn’t the worst habit to get into…

Felicity leaned forward and pressed a light, chaste kiss to the side of his neck. She visibly saw his shoulders relax as he leaned back into her. “You didn’t have to do that.” He said softly.

“Maybe I wanted to.” She said, tequila doing some of the talking.

He just nodded once, passing her the helmet and waiting, but she struggled…hard, to get it on, her fingers fumbling with the straps. She cursed under her breath, a blush rising up her throat.

Oliver turned slightly and clipped the buckle beneath her chin easily, not looking at her as he did, and turning back around. He started the bike and sped off, leaving her to grip at his leather jacket as her stomach lurched. “Sorry,” he muttered, lifting one hand from the bike and wrapping it around her knee to pull her closer, easing up on the gas as she secured her arms around his waist.

He seemed to be in a pretty bad mood, but she wasn’t sure why. 

She knew that he was probably pissed at Thea for talking about him, frustrated because he didn’t know what was real or not, and probably feeling pretty confused about where they stood now. She sighed, resting her head on his back and closing her eyes so that the scenery flying by didn’t make her nauseous. She felt just as confused. None of what Cupid did should have changed anything for her…but it did. 

Felicity felt like she’d allowed her feelings to take the back seat ever since their break up, pushing it all down, hiding it in some cold, dark corner of her heart and leaving it there. She’d thrown herself into other things, like the new team…and Billy…moving on from Oliver without actually being over him. 

And now, it was like Cutter had blown open the flood gates on all of it.

Oliver parked the bike on the street in front of her building, putting the kickstand down and getting off. He held both of his hands out to her, helping her to maneuver herself off of the bike without nose diving into the pavement. Then he hesitated, shoving his hands in his pockets while she teetered on her heels. 

She wanted to invite him in, but she didn’t know how he would react, didn’t know if it would do more harm than good. He didn’t seem like the happiest camper tonight, and she didn’t want to fuel that fire by making it worse.

“Do you need anything else?” He asked, taking a step away from her and glancing down the street like he was eager to leave. Felicity stared at him for a moment, thinking of one thing she needed that she knew he was sure to give her if she had him in her bedroom.

But as his eyes glanced down the street, refusing to meet hers…she’d never gotten a more distinct feeling of being an inconvenience to him. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that it might annoy him to have to leave whatever he was doing at his sister’s phone call to go pick up his fake drunk wife and bring her home from the bar. She felt heat rising to her cheeks in embarrassment at the thought. And, being a creature of habit, that embarrassment quickly turned to anger at him for making her feel that way.

“No. I guess not.” She said, crossing her arms and trying to steady her wobbling legs. Oliver turned to get back on the motorcycle without another word, which apparently thoroughly pissed drunk Felicity off. “Thanks for the ride.” She said sarcastically, feeling some hot, angry tears springing to her eyes at his indifference.

He froze, his hands on the bike and his back to her. 

He turned slowly, lifting his eyes to meet hers, and she glanced away, blinking quickly to get rid of the tears. His eyes narrowed. “Now you’re pissed at me?” He asked, his own anger bubbling in his tone.

Felicity fumed, pulling her heels off to avoid an injury before turning quickly and heading for the door. She threw a sharp, “Goodnight, Oliver,” over her shoulder, raising her heels in a passive wave as she felt more tears coming.

The next thing she knew he was on her, spinning her back around and she clumsily crashed into his chest before righting herself and taking a step back. He let her step away, but he kept her steady with his hands on her arms. “What did I do now, Felicity?” He asked, his voice confrontational. Then he looked at her, his eyes softening as he watched a tear fall, and she quickly brushed it away.

“What did I do!?” She yelled, “You’re being all broody and cold and not telling me what’s wrong and I thought that we moved passed-” She snapped her lips shut.

He raised an eyebrow, “You thought that we moved passed all of this, but you don’t even know what our past looks like to me, do you?”

She shook her head, glancing away.

“Oh, it takes more than a love potion to make me forget how we fight, baby,” he said, letting go of her arm to point a finger at her, “you…are stubborn, and sarcastic, and snarky, and you always make me guess what’s wrong instead of just telling me. You’re…infuriating, Felicity Smoak.”

“Wow, thank you,” she chided before biting her lip, realizing that she was only proving his point. And realizing that he was right. 

Their fights could get explosive when it was something that they were both worked up about. Luckily it didn’t happen often, one of them usually took the part of the listener, the level headed one while the other was upset. But when they both got going…they could really get fired up. Every time though, that anger fizzled into passion, which usually lead them to the bedroom where they hashed out their differences between the sheets, finally calming down enough to have a conversation about it. 

Her eyes darted up to his, realizing that he knew that. It takes more than a love potion to make me forget how we fight, baby. He wasn’t hopelessly in love with her or delusional…she still got under his skin as much as she knew she could. And he knew it too. 

She had one specific memory that was ingrained in her mind, one night when she’d told him to wait for Dig, and he’d disregarded her request, taking off after some arms dealers on his own. 

He’d wound up getting shot, and she responded by being the most hostile nurse ever. He took it for a lot longer than she’d expected; her snide remarks and rude attitude. Until he couldn’t take it anymore and blew up, to which his fire had lit hers, and she exploded back. They argued until her mouth was dry, and somehow the fire between them turned into something different, and all she wanted was for him to be take her upstairs. He’d apparently had the same thought, because he was between her legs less than five minutes later. Once all of their energy was out, she cried. Hard. And a lot. She was exhausted, but her anger finally resolved to reveal to him the terror she’d felt. When she’d heard the gunshot that night and he didn’t respond to her shouting his name through the comm over and over. They’d talked for hours, hidden and naked under the covers where he’d held her. And he made her laugh with a joke about how maybe they should have all of their fights naked. 

Oliver licked his lips, his eyes drinking her in now, like he was reading her mind. She knew that at least on some level, he was. Her eyes were obviously letting him know where her head had gone…picturing that night and the way he’d comforted her, the way he had been everywhere she needed him to be. She wondered if he had that memory running through his mind too. She wasn’t sure if he was thinking of that night, but his eyes told her pretty clearly that he had a similar memory in mind. And she was suddenly very curious to hear about it.

She nodded slowly, her eyes falling to his mouth as he bit his lip. “Do you want to come upstairs?” She asked quietly.

His eyebrow creased, thinking hard about the decision. “Are you sure?” He mumbled, and she nodded.

She was done denying it, done denying him. She wanted him, and he wanted her, and that seemed simple enough for the moment.

He slowly stepped towards her, his eyes piercing into hers with the same intensity that broke her heart, and healed it, so many times before. He took her hand and lead her into the building. From bickering one second to nervous silence the next, her heart was racing.

Oliver didn’t speak until they were in the elevator, keeping her hand firmly in his. “John told me a little more about Heartsease; how Cutter intended for it to work by being the last person I saw before I passed out.” Her eyes flickered to his, and he stared back, not blinking. The elevator doors opened at their floor…and closed when neither of them moved. “I know why it didn’t work.” He whispered, his eyes still holding hers in a stare down. She was mesmerized, his eyes and his voice, and probably her buzz, holding her under his own kind of trance.

“Why?” She asked quietly.

“Because the last face I saw before I passed out was yours.” His face stared down at her intensely, “It’s always been yours.” He said, his voice full of emotion.

His eyes still held her as he reached his free hand out to push the button and open the doors, and she couldn’t seem to look away. He broke their gaze when the elevator chimed and the doors slid open again, leading her into the hallway and towards the door.

She let go of his hand to get her keys, unlocking the door and letting them in. She tried to brush the moment off as she stepped into the loft, “Do you want anything? Water, tea?” 

Oliver just shook his head, watching her as she took her coat off and went to the kitchen. She needed to keep her hands busy, to focus on a task that didn’t include finding some way to touch him.

She slowly filled her kettle with water and turned the burner on, going through the motions of making tea as meticulously as she could. Oliver leaned on the counter across from the stove, close enough that she could touch him if she wanted but far enough that she wouldn’t brush up against him on accident as she moved.

Felicity pulled two mugs from the cupboard and placed tea bags in them, ignoring his answer of not wanting tea because she knew that even when he said no, he ended up sipping hers anyways. She tried to ignore her hair rising on her neck at the feeling of his eyes on her. But she could feel it, and it made a nervous knot in her stomach. She spun around to say something, anything, but her mouth just opened and closed. Just as she looked at him, she caught his eyes drifting up her body to meet hers. Was he just…checking her out? 

Felicity laughed breathlessly, nervously, feeling as jittery around him as she did when she’d first met him, when she barely knew him and her hands would shake every time he landed that heavy gaze on her. Oliver cleared his throat, glancing away. “I’ve been talking a lot to John and Thea…about what I know and what…I don’t, I guess.”

Felicity pursed her lips and nodded, her heart dropping as it hit her that he hadn’t once asked her about his memories. She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter across from him. “And what do they say?”

“Most of what I remember about them is the same…except for a few things that involve you. Thea said that she found out about my son, that she encouraged me to hide it from you…because she thought that it was the best thing for him. And I…I apparently have no memory of William or anything relating to him. It seems that Cutter’s drug only affected my head in memories that revolve around you, probably the ones that I…associate with, you know…us not working out.”

Felicity nodded slowly, vaguely hearing the tea kettle screaming but she ignored it, “So why didn’t you ask me about it, then?” 

Oliver hesitated, licking his lips and glancing away. Then he sighed and leaned towards her, reaching over her to move the kettle from the burner and turning the stove off. Felicity could smell him as he leaned over her, his neck only a few inches from her, and she inhaled, closing her eyes and remembering how good it felt to run her nose along his skin.

He froze above her, and she realized that he noticed. He knew that she had just smelled him. Her eyes flew open to meet his as he stared down at her, and then she squeezed them shut and groaned in embarrassment. Thea was right, she was an idiot…getting caught smelling his neck.

Oliver breathed out a laugh and stepped back, resuming his position at a safe, not close enough to for her be weird distance, leaning back against the counter. “I called Barry too.” He said, changing the subject and saving her from further embarrassment than this night was already turning out to be. “He um…he kind of officiated our wedding.” Oliver said, grabbing at his neck nervously.

Felicity stared at him for a long moment. “What?” She asked. Oliver looked at her, and he actually looked embarrassed to admit it. “Barry…married us?”

“Well, the minister we had booked called and said he had the flu the morning of our wedding. You…had a bit of a panic attack,” he smiled softly, like he was remembering it. Felicity just watched him, so intrigued at his moment of sharing. He hadn’t really talked about what the drug made him see, at least not to her. “But, apparently Barry is an ordained minister, courtesy of the internet,” 

Felicity laughed, her giggle causing him to glance up at her, where his eyes lightened, joining her in the humor of what that day clearly was…whether it was a hallucination or not. “So,” Oliver continued, “I called him because I just…I needed to know what he thought. John told me that Barry knew about William…before anyone else, and I just needed to see if he was as important to us in the real world as he is in my, messed up, love potion head.”

Felicity smiled, biting her lip. “He is.”

Oliver nodded, “I know.” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “It kind of made me wonder what’s actually different. My sister is exactly how I know her, John is still like a brother to me, Barry is still…well, Barry,” his voice was low, “And I still can’t shake the feeling that I’d be in love with you no matter what Cupid’s Heartsease did to me.”

Felicity just nodded, clearing her throat and turning to finish making their tea. She didn’t hear him move, but she felt him get closer. His body wasn’t pressed against her, but it almost was…it felt like it was. He waited until she had finished pouring their tea, and then he reached around her again, his chest brushing against her back now, to place his hand over hers where it held the tea kettle. Felicity’s body reacted to his, hearing a low, gruff noise from his chest as she instinctively leaned back into him. 

“Felicity…” he whispered, his mouth just outside her ear, and her eyes closed, “Barry mentioned that I had told him once…that being with you gave me peace. I can’t think of anything more I could promise you…that would be more true than that.”

Oliver lifted the kettle from her shaking hand and placed it on the counter. He didn’t move, didn’t speak…it was like he was waiting…just waiting for her to move. Felicity turned slowly, and his hands fell to grip the counter on either side of her, grabbing the marble as if to keep from grabbing her. 

He stared down at her, his eyes telling her everything she needed to know, but he still waited. He kept his face angled towards her, but far enough away that she would have to lean in if she wanted to kiss him…just like he had when he leaned against the counter, close enough for her to reach but far enough that she couldn’t unless she wanted to. Just like he had in the elevator, when he’d looked like he was about to kiss her, but stopped himself and opened the doors instead.

It clicked that this whole thing was about her decisions. 

He left the ball completely in her court; knowing that in his mind, he’d fallen in love with her, married her, and wanted to spend his life with her. It wasn’t so far off from their encounter with Cupid, when he’d poured his heart out to her and she’d still walked away. She’d felt like she had to walk away then…but she really didn’t feel like making the same mistake again, she knew now that it wouldn’t be the right decision. And he didn’t even remember any of that yet he was still leaving it completely up to her whether or not they jumped back into this. 

She’d never wanted to jump more in her entire life.

Felicity leaned forward, and he tilted his head closer, his eyebrows coming together, his eyes curious as he watched her, waiting for her to decide what happened next. 

Felicity slowly ran her hands up his chest, knowing that the decision was already made but kind of enjoying the anticipation of it. She felt him inhale at her touch, and her heart felt so light, just like it always did when he responded to her like that. She brushed her fingers over his shoulders, the hair on his neck and face. And then she rested her fingertips on his jaw, her gaze falling from his eyes to his lips, and she nodded slowly. 

Oliver let out a breath, as if in relief, his eyes closing. And then he kissed her. 

Felicity kissed him back, feeling as much passion and power behind that kiss as she had in their first one. They both stayed still for a long moment, her lips pressed to his in what felt like the best kiss they’d ever shared, the most honest, uncomplicated kiss. She recognized the irony of that feeling, but she didn’t care at all.

His lips parted slightly, and she opened her mouth, her tongue sliding across his bottom lip as her arms wound around his neck. Desire built in every part of her body to be closer. 

His hands abandoned the counter top to grip her backside. She gasped, nipping at his lip with her teeth and he hissed her name sharply. She smiled, loving that at least that hadn’t changed. 

He pulled away, his eyes on fire as they met hers.

His lips were only off of hers long enough to give her that look, the one that made her feel like something was gripping her heart. His hands slid up to grab her beneath her armpits, and he hoisted her easily onto the counter like it was nothing, his lips finding hers again.

Felicity wound her legs around his waist, her hands reaching between them to find the hem of his shirt so that she could pull it over his head. He lifted his arms to help, barely breaking the kiss long enough to let her get it off of him. She tossed his shirt across the room, digging her nails into his back and pulling him in as close as she could with her legs. 

Just as he was reaching for the buttons on her shirt, she gasped at the vibration in his pants. She felt his phone buzzing on her inner thigh, and he groaned, “Ignore it.” He worked on finishing her buttons and reaching his hands into her shirt.

She kissed him back until the vibration stopped, because then another buzzing noise took its’ place. He was getting a text message. Felicity ignored him, and reached into his pocket. His lips fell to her neck when she pulled back to read his phone. “Oh my god,” 

Oliver’s head snapped up to read the message. “Shit,” he hissed.

“Cutter escaped.” 

Oliver sighed, dropping his head to rest on her shoulder while he caught his breath. She turned to press small kisses to his cheek and temple. “We have to go.”

“Yeah,” Oliver nodded, taking his phone back from her and shoving it into his pocket. He reached for the buttons on her shirt and secured them each back into place before kissing her cheek, “Please tell me we aren’t done with this.” he mumbled, moving his nose across her skin and pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth.

Felicity giggled, feeling like her head was as light as a cloud. “We should probably talk more…before we finish…that.” She babbled, and he offered her a small, sad looking smile.

“Okay.” he said.

Felicity rested her hand on his face, picking up her phone and dialing John’s number to let him know that they were on their way to the bunker.

Diggle had blood on his forehead and a bump already forming when they came in. Felicity fussed over him for a moment, cleaning it up while he explained how Cutter had asked to use the restroom and attacked him as soon as he opened the door. “She knocked you out?” Felicity asked.

John shook his head, “No, she just hit me and bolted.”

“She was cuffed…she didn’t even try to steal the keys?”

“No, she just ran. Her bow and arrows are still locked up. She’s not getting her hands on those Heartsease arrows.” He sighed, “I’m sorry guys.”

Felicity sighed, “I should have broken more of her fingers.” She mumbled.

Oliver raised his eyebrows in surprise. Felicity rolled her eyes, “Long story.”

Oliver shook his head slightly, “John, don’t worry. We’ll find Cutter. This is not your fault.”

Felicity glanced up at Oliver, and he offered her a smile. And actual smile. “This optimism and calmness is definitely new.” She told him.

Oliver hesitated, thinking about that. “I told you…” he replied, “peace…” He trailed off, lifting his shoulder. Felicity bit her lip, realizing what he was saying; being with her, becoming her husband, even if it wasn’t real, had brought him peace in every aspect of his life.

“Does that include the blame game you play with yourself?” She asked. 

Diggle chuckled and Oliver tried not to smile. “And by that I mean how you always find a way to blame yourself for everything.”

“I told you…” he repeated, his voice softer, “Peace.” He winked at her.

Felicity shook her head, in disbelief that he wasn’t brooding and smashing arrows, vowing to find Cutter.

“I love you,” she sighed, “Any version of you…I love you.”

Oliver opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted. “And I’ve heard enough of your voice.” Cutter said, stalking into the room, a gun raised in each hand.

One was trained on Diggle, one on Felicity. Her cuffs were dangling from her wrists. She’d somehow broken them, but Felicity was more surprised, and a little impressed, that with a broken arm and multiple broken fingers, she still came back, threatening two trained heroes. “Maybe what it takes to get your attention, Lover, is for you to have no one else to love…but me.” She smiled.

Oliver stepped in front of Felicity and John raised his own gun at Carrie. She cocked her head to the side, “I don’t understand how it didn’t work, but I’ll try it again…once this little nuisance is out of the picture.” 

Oliver held his hands up, “Hey, hey,” He breathed, “We can talk. Just put the guns down and we can get out of here. Just us.”

“Oliver.” Felicity warned, not thinking for a second that she was about to let him go anywhere with Cutter. 

Oliver ignored her, his hands still raised. “No one has to get hurt.”

Cupid kept her guns raised, “Oh. No, no, no, lover. She does.” Carrie fired a shot that Oliver stepped in front of, the bullet hitting his chest. 

And Dig took the moment to fire his own gun, tagging Cutter’s broken arm and causing her to drop the guns. 

Felicity ran for the towels and dropped to her knees in front of Oliver, applying pressure to the wound on his chest. “Let her go and help me!” She called over her shoulder at Dig, who was leaning towards Cutter as she ran out of the bunker. John nodded, hurrying around the room to get all of the supplies they needed.

Oliver smiled weakly, his hand coming over hers where she pressed against him, trying to stop the blood. “This reminds me of another time,” he whispered, “When I was in the backseat of your car…and you saved me.”

Felicity’s vision blurred with tears at how pale he was already, how he was struggling to keep his eyes open, and at his words. “Oliver,” She said harshly, swallowing the lump in her throat. “You were fine then and you’re going to be fine now.”

“That was when I told you my secret, Felicity, when I let you in. Because I trusted you.” He said, his eyes burning into hers like he knew why she’d stayed away…why she hadn’t married him. “John was worried…” He clenched his teeth together when Felicity removed the pressure, giving John room to work. She moved around him to hold his hand. “John was worried that including you in my crusade would get you hurt, and I promised that we could protect you.” He nodded to himself, “I will always protect you, Felicity.”

“I’ll always protect you too, Oliver.”

He smiled, “I know you will.”

When his eyes fluttered shut, Felicity looked up at Dig. “Is he okay?” she asked, moving her hand down Oliver’s to press her fingers against his pulse.

“Yeah,” John answered, “he’s still breathing, just passed out. He’ll be fine, it was a clear through and through, he’s just losing a lot of blood.”

Felicity hovered over Diggle as he worked, and as he carried Oliver to the room in the back and laid him down on the bed. Again. This was the second time now in two weeks that she’d seen Oliver unconscious in that bed, all at the hands of Carrie Cutter.

She sat down on the edge, taking his hand into her own and bringing it to her lips. Diggle patted her back, “I’ll be right in the other room if you need me.”

Felicity nodded, keeping her lips pressed to Oliver’s knuckles.

She waited, very patiently, for him to wake up, never leaving his side. After a few hours, her back started to hurt, and she rolled her shoulders, and then her neck, letting out a deep sigh. She needed sleep, but she knew that even if she went home, she wouldn’t get any until he woke up.

She learned that last week when they were in this same situation. 

“You look stressed.” 

Felicity spun around at the sound of his hoarse voice, “Oh god,” She choked back a sob, burying her face in his chest.

Oliver grunted, adjusting her to lay next to him and keeping her head on his chest, but away from the new wound. He laughed gently, “What?” He asked, stroking her hair, “You didn’t think a bullet wound was going to kill me, did you? Felicity, you’ve seen me endure a lot worse.”

Felicity turned her face to press her lips to his chest, closing her eyes as she felt his heart beating beneath her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“What did Dig give me? I’m exhausted.” He sighed, resting his lips on the top of her head. 

Felicity smiled, “Get some rest.” She said, snuggling into him and wrapping her arm over his waist.

He ran his hand over her arm, “Will you be here when I wake up?”

She nodded against his skin, “Of course I will.”

Oliver hesitated, and she stayed still, waiting for him to fall asleep. “Felicity,” he mumbled, “I heard what Thea said to you…about why she thinks I’m still affected by the Heartsease…and I think she’s right.”

Felicity lifted her head and rested her chin on his shoulder, unable to see his whole face but watching the tense line of his jaw while he looked up at the ceiling. “The memories I have…every day they start to feel more and more unreal…tainted, somehow…but I didn’t say anything…I’ve been fighting it, ignoring it…because…I want them. I think that Thea is right. I think that I’ve been allowing it to still affect me because I haven’t wanted to let go of it. Those memories are everything I’ve wanted…” he looked down at her, “everything I’ve wanted…with you.”

Felicity lifted her head, hovering her lips over his for a quiet moment before she kissed him. “Let them go, Oliver.” She said, pressing her lips to his again, “What we really have is so much better.”

Oliver sighed as Felicity moved her lips to pepper his face in kisses, her mouth tracing down his cheek and across his jaw, exploring his neck. “I love you,” She whispered. 

“I love you too,” he breathed. Felicity settled back on his shoulder and he reached for her hand. She laced her fingers through his and rubbed her thumb over his finger, listening as his breathing became heavier as he fell asleep. 

And she knew that this time when he woke up, things would be right again.


End file.
